


Both sides are even

by crissp



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 15:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19065139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crissp/pseuds/crissp
Summary: The story of how Sam and Ruth worked it all out. Looked at from both sides.





	1. Sam

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from The Boxer Rebellion

**Sam**

 

Another late night. Sam was sitting in his booth above the stage, working on the light plan. Rehearsals had long finished, the girls all gone except for Debbie and Ruth, who were lounging at Bash's table.

 

Ruth.

She had her back to him, he could see her slim neck when she lowered her head. It made it hard for him to concentrate.

Just when he had managed to focus on his work for a while the headset on his desk gave noise.

 

He took it up and realized that Bash's microphone had been switched on. It was set to just his booth, not the audition, they had used it earlier to communicate about the show.

 

He was still wondering why it would be on so suddenly when he heard his name.

“... of Sam. I mean, Russel must have known about your connection. That was probably one of the reasons you guys broke up.”

Debbie's voice. Hang on, Russel and Ruth broke up? Why the fuck didn't he know that.

 

“No! Sam was never part of our fights. Sure, the show, the lack of free times, the weekends canceled because of it, but not ...Sam!”

Ruth sounded agitated, even through the bad connection.

“Anyway, there is no reason for jealousy. There is nothing between us.”

That fucking stung. It was the truth, sort of, but still.

 

“Ruth, that's a lie. I know you. I can see it, there is not nothing.” Debbie said with conviction. Sam's heart picked up.

“No, it's the truth. He is... he is my friend. And my boss by the way. And my friend. He is my – he is my Sam.”

 

There was a moment of silence. Her last sentence hang in the air.

“There was a moment. At the dance, with Justine. I messed up and ran away, literally.”

He remembered that moment. He remembered it several times a day.

“Was that when you were with Russel?” Debbie still had little trust in Ruth being faithful.

 

“No! It was before that. Well, right before that. The same evening.”

“So you ran away from that moment and straight to Russel? Could there possibly be any correlation between those two happenings?”

 

This had occurred to him as well. He had never let himself dwell on it.

Ruth was quiet. Sam couldn't stop staring at her neck.

“Of course there was. I got scared. Sam is... important. I didn't want to ruin what we had.” Like I ruined our friendship, remained unsaid.

 

“Ruth” Debbie sounded gentle, a tone she rarely used. “And now? Will you say anything?”

Ruth put her head in her hands. Sam could hardly make out what she said. “No. There is nothing to say. I don't think he wants me, not any more. And even if, I can't do something casual. Not with him.”

 

Stupid, stupid girl. Had he been too subtle? He didn't do subtle.

Sam craved a smoke, but didn't want to miss anything.

“And how is that working for you? Because I can see you are distracted. And I think you are wrong about him.”

 

“I'm fine. I will be fine. I'm fine most of the time. It's just sometimes that I get distracted by his hands. Or his legs. Or, oh god, his chest...”

 

Sam startled, after having sat completely still for several minutes. His empty cup, that had been perched awkwardly at the edge of his desk fell to the floor and shattered. He quickly dove down to busy himself with it, so that the girls wouldn't notice his flushed face when they looked up.

 

His hands, his legs. His chest. Jesus. He had seen her staring in the general direction of his clavicles, but had thought she just spaced out. Blood went south.

By the time he was in his seat again, the girls had finished their girl talk an were gathering their stuff. Ruth shouted a quick goodbye to him and walked away, luckily her attention on Debbie again, because Sam couldn't hide his wince at the sudden increase of volume. Debbie lingered behind for a moment, and very deliberately switched off the microphone, looking up at him. Sam could just nod in thanks.

What the fuck should he do with all this.

 

The next day was a Saturday. Ruth and Sam had fallen into the habit of spending the afternoon together, sharing some food and talking shop. There hadn't been any specific plans, but Sam had no reason not to expect her.   
Throughout the night and the morning he had cycled several times through a wheel of emotion. Elation, because there was a chance for him. Incredulity, because they were both such idiots. Nerves, because he was bound to mess up. Anger, because why would she make decisions that concerned his life like that without including him. And plain old fear, because this was big.

 

When she knocked on his door he happened to be livid.

“I brought chinese from that place you like, hope you are in the mood. And I have an idea for the interlude before the last fight, please listen before you shut it down...”

She noticed that there was something wrong and shut up. She stood there by the table where she had put the food, stared at him with huge eyes and looked small and imposing at the same time and how could she fucking deny both of them the chance for something important. Sam wanted.

 

God, he was going to mess this up. He crossed his arms.

 

“Chinese then? You know I don't like it. Couldn't you have fucking asked my opinion on this before you decide for the both of us?”

He had nothing against chinese food. He was being petty and he knew it.

 

“No I didn't know that. Sorry Sam. We went to that place a few weeks ago and I thought...”

 

“Yes I know you thought. You always think you know what I think. You think you know me so well. Always fucking reading my mind. Well you're wrong sometimes, Ruth.”

 

Ruth stared at him as if he had gone insane. Maybe he was.

 

“Okay, Sam, I don't know what I have done wrong this time, I just take the food and share it with Sheila.”

 

He couldn't let her go. Not like this.

 

“No, Ruth, wait. I'll eat it. I am just - in a bad mood”.

Ruth watched him uncertainly for a moment, then nodded.

 

“You wanna talk about what has you in a state then?”

 

This made him angry all over again. In a state!

 

“So, Ruth, tell me, how is Russell? Haven't seen him in a while.”

 

Ruth blushed turned to busy herself with the food. Sam stepped forward and put his hand on the bag. Ruth stared at it and swallowed visibly. His hand, gods.

 

“Or have you broken up? Did you finally ditch camera-boy?”

 

One more small step, he was so close he could feel her warmth. Ruth had blushed and stood very still. He talked directly into her ear. Sam was high on his power over her, and still a bit angry.

 

“I wonder why. And you keep staring at my hand, Ruth.”

 

Ruth took a step back and looked at him with horror.

“What are you talking about, Sam?”

 

Out with the truth then. It felt like jumping off a plane.

“I heard you yesterday. The microphone was on. I heard it all! About my hand, an legs, and … my chest.” He left Debbie's part out of it. This was only about them.

 

Her face did something complicated, and she looked away. Sam felt bad instantly.

 

“Sam” she said, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... Please forget about it. I'll get over it”

 

This was going so bad.

 

She made to turn away. “I just go and tomorrow...”

“Ruth.” His hand moved to her elbow without his consent.

 

She stopped and after a moment her eyes found his. Still fear in her face, and a trace of hope.

 

“Ruth” he started again. “Will you fucking run away again if I try to kiss you?”

 

Her eyes dropped to his mouth for a second. Then she minutely shook her head.

 

He meant to go slowly. Be a gentleman about it. Do it properly. Instead he found himself just diving in, his tongue in her mouth immediately. She made a heartbreaking little noise and this was the end of clear thoughts.

 

Later he would have flashbacks of this kiss. The way her small frame melted into him. Her hands in his hair. The feeling of her heated skin underneath the thin fabric of her shirt. Her scent. How she sucked on his tongue. The sound of his name when he bit her neck.

 

They must have moved, because suddenly there was much more friction against his dick when her back hit the door frame to the kitchen.

 

Sam managed to take a deep breath and find some control somewhere. His hands were on her hips to stop them grinding against him. His resolve nearly crumbled when she tried to pull him in again, staring at his mouth.

“I'm not going to fuck you against a wall, Ruth.” Although that sounded very tempting. “We are going to fucking sit down and have a meal and a fucking conversation about this. Do it properly. As in not casual.”

 

It was so very important to say this clearly. It was important to do this right. Even if his cock demanded instant satisfaction.

 

Ruth was breathing heavily, Sam could see her breasts moving, her nipples hard. His hand moved, but he managed to redirect it to her shoulder.

Suddenly she looked up and smiled. Suddenly all was right in the world.

 

“Let's eat then.” But instead of moving away she stood on her toes and gave him the sweetest, most tender kiss he ever received. It took him a couple of deep breaths to recover from it.

 

By the time he could focus again, she had moved back to the table and was unpacking the food.

 

He moved awkwardly to the kitchen, still hard in his jeans. Plates, cutlery, glasses. A bottle of wine. Do it properly.

  
Diner was surprisingly easy after the first couple of minutes. He told her about Justine's last phone call and his first job in the business. She shared a few anecdotes of auditions she attended, it was nice. Comfortable. Homey.

Sam was still horny of course, but he was capable of patience. He was.

 

To prove that he made her sit down on the sofa after diner with another glass of wine and switched on the TV. She looked slightly confused at first, but then tucked her legs under and settled in. They had done this before, only difference now was that now she wrapped his arm around her and put her head against his shoulder.

 

Sam managed to focus enough on what was going on to amuse her with some sarcastic remarks on the documentary on frogs, of all things, but more and more his attention was on her body against his.

 

After a while, both their glasses empty, and a long silence hanging in the air, she turned her head and started kissing his neck.

He had been half-hard for most of the afternoon, and now his cock filled out immediately. Her hand found his thigh nearly where he wanted it.

“Sam” she mumbled into his skin, “how long do have to wait until it counts as properly?”

“I don't have a fucking clue, Ruth. How the hell should I know?”

 

She turned his face toward her and removed his glasses. When she kissed him, Sam tried to let her lead. Let her set the pace. It wasn't easy, he was a director after all.   
  
When she straddled his legs and started kissing him in earnest, he slipped and grabbed her hips to ground her against his crotch.

They both gasped at the feeling and he managed to reel himself in again.

She undid his shirt and with a sly grin indulged herself in touching and kissing his chest. He enjoyed this more than he thought possible. Ruth took her own shirt of like an afterthought, and Sam was treated with the sight of her breasts. Larger than seemed likely on such a slight woman. Beautiful.

  
Ruth was very responsive to his touch on her tits. She moved up to his face again and sighed into his mouth when he pinched a nipple.

 

They kissed again for while, she then stopped and looked down. Sam followed her gaze, she was watching her own nipples raking through his chest-hair. The sight was fucking beautiful, but the thought of her looking at it, enjoying it, had him on the edge.

 

Suddenly it was very important to loose more clothes. They shuffled a bit until they had both lost their jeans, Ruth ended up on her back, Sam between her legs.

 

All his instincts, all his experience told him to just go for it and fuck. He forced himself to be careful, using first one finger, then two, even though she was wet and grinding against his hand.   
He even remembered to offer the use of a condom, which she declined.

 

Then he pushed into her. And while slow and gentle was somehow against his nature he could see the benefits. Never had a woman felt so warm, so inviting, so fucking right.

Maybe it was just Ruth.

 

They kissed again whilst he was trying to find a rhythm. They even had eye-contact, something he had always avoided in the past. It made him feel more vulnerable and naked than ever.   
But it was Ruth, so that was okay.

 

She wrapped her legs around his hips and he lost himself for a while, in the slow thrusts, his cock filling her tight heat again and again, her little noises, her smell all around him, her hands on his back, his arms, his ass. Her huge eyes.

 

When she eventually pushed against him he was scared for a moment, did she want to stop? Did he do wrong? He sat up.

 

But she surprised him by turning around, settling on her hands an knees. She looked over her shoulder and he managed to drag his eyes from the unexpected view to her face.

 

“Come on, Sam. Please.”

 

Nobody could blame him for forgetting about gentleness and propriety and everything. Could they? With such an invitation, such a position.

 

So Sam got up on his knees and went for it, and it was glorious.

He firmly grabbed her hips and moved in. No more slow moves, he fucked her hard.

 

Within minutes she came undone, and it would be one of the proudest achievements for the rest of his life, that Ruth came on fucking nothing but his cock.

 

Her walls clenched and quivered around him and Sam was actually too surprised to join her immediately.

Briefly he wandered if he should pull out and take matters in his own hand, if that was the polite thing to do, but she just sacked down onto her elbows and pressed her hips against him.

The difference of position put even more pressure on his dick and offered him a glimpse of her asshole as her cleft opened up a little.

There was no more thought of pulling out, he fucked into her and soon after came so hard that he couldn't even care that he was shouting.

 

He stayed inside of her for as long as he could, feeling like he belonged. Like that place inside her was rightfully his.

But eventually his cock slipped out, and he caught a quick glance at her entrance, quenched with his cum and her own juices, before she fell over on her side. Her hand reached for his and it was so easy to take it and hold on to her.

 

The TV was still on, the frog thing was over and now there was an episode of Columbo running. Ruth rumbled around and somehow they ended up cuddling naked on his ratty old couch underneath his ratty old blanket watching TV. This was good. He found his glasses, and refilled their wine, she laughed at his jokes and fit so well into his arms.

 

After Columbo had solved the crime Ruth got up, saying she had to take care of that leaking. Sam couldn't help but feel chuffed about that, and about the fact that she moved through his home, naked and unashamed. So he did the same, and went into the kitchen to find some desert. He found a pot of ice cream and was just searching for spoons when her arms wrapped around him from behind, effectively stopping all his movements. And his breathing.

 

“Will you take me to bed? We could eat this there...”

 

How could he say no to that.

 

So they went to his bedroom, fed each other ice cream and made a mess of each other and the bed, and behaved in such silly ways Sam had always turned up his nose on.

Ruth turned out to be ticklish on her waist and underneath her feet. Sam couldn't resist her accents, found her australian backpacker hilarious, and her italian Mafia bride astoundingly sexy.

Sam's cheeks were hurting. They weren't used to this much smiling.

 

They ended up on opposite ends of the bed, Ruth lying down, Sam half sitting, the duvet half covering both. The laughter had fizzled out, the ice cream was empty, there was a comfortable silence.

 

Ruth scooted down the bed a bit, until she could reach his hand. Always his hand. She run her fingers over his palm.

 

“So, about my idea for the show.” she said, whilst she pulled his hand underneath the duvet and pressed it low against her belly.

 

“I was thinking. Just before the last fight, we could have something unexpected. I was thinking of a barbershop quartet.”

 

Her face was completely serene, whilst her legs opened up even more. She pushed his hand lower, pressing his palm against her folds.

 

“We could have the girls interact with them. Like some of them loving it, some not, and quarreling around them”

 

Sam's brain couldn't deal. He was so used to listening to her ideas, throwing them to and fro until something passable emerged. But he was paralyzed by his hand being rubbed against her clit, and then she turned his hand and deftly pushed two of his fingers into herself.

 

He sat there stupidly for a moment, then began to move his fingers inside her. She was wet again.

  
She looked at him expectantly. He could to this.

She fucked herself with his fingers, and he added a little movement of his thump on his own.

“Barber shop, eh?” He was rewarded for his multitasking by a smile, a gasp and a grind. “Yeah, I can see that. Fully equipped with stripey jackets and those hats.”

 

She moved her own hand to her side, let him take over. Before this had always felt like a favor to the woman, a necessary prelude to a fuck. Now, it felt like a fucking privilege.

 

“The queen would hate it.”

 

“She-Wolf would howl along.”

 

By now he had three fingers fucking into her whilst his thump was working against her clit. Ruth pressed against him, her breath was elevated, but her face was still relaxed, if a bit flushed. Sam had to up the game.

 

“Hang on, I need to write this down.” He abruptly pulled his hand out and had to grin at her gasp. He stood up and walked into the living room, his erection pointing the way.

 

Out of sight he couldn't stop himself and smelled the fingers that had just been inside her. Jesus. He licked them as well.

 

He found a pad of paper and a pencil and returned to the bedroom. Ruth had not moved.

 

He sat down on the bed and readied pad and pencil, with his other hand he pushed aside the duvet and without preamble put his hand back. He watched how three of his fingers fucked back into her. They felt so right there. He saw his thump find her clit again. Ruth briefly lost her composure, he was proud to notice. She spread her legs even more and clenched the bed sheets in her hands.

 

“So” Sam pretended to take notes, although he probably wouldn't be able to read anything, as he tried to write with his left hand. He soon stopped the attempt and just scribbled something for show. Ruth was past noticing anyways.

 

“Barber shop. Maybe we could have them sing the GLOW-Theme?”

 

“Yes, good idea. God yes.” The second part was her reaction to a particularly hard swipe of his thump. Sam promptly repeated the motion a couple of times, still looking down at his pad.

 

“I may even know a guy with connections. What's his name again.”  
  
Sam didn't know a guy. He just pretended to think and chewed on the pencil. He curled his fingers an wriggled them, pressed them up against her inner walls. Ruth was writhing by now, but was still able to play.

 

“there is this Fifties-Diner, oh, where we went the other day, yes Sam!”

 

There was this filthy noise when he thrust his fingers in and out of her. Sam couldn't stop himself from looking anymore. He dropped pad and pencil. She was past caring anyways, her face scrunched up. She moved against his hand.

Sam had always been a visual person, so he allowed himself a closer look. He spread her folds with his free hand so he could see her clit.

 

As soon he did that Ruth came so viciously that his fingers nearly slipped out. It was the fucking hottest thing he had ever seen. Or heard.

 

When she had calmed down she grabbed his arms and pulled him towards her. After earlier, when she obviously hadn't minded being fucked after her own climax, he had no qualms about climbing on top of her. He arranged her to his liking, one leg high against his chest, one to the side, and pushed in. Her insides were still working through the aftershocks, it was good that he had already cum once tonight, otherwise this would be over.

Instead he started thrusting. He allowed himself to be selfish, as she was lying underneath him with a lazy smile, her hands buried in his chest-hair. She was so pliant. His body took over, this he was familiar with. He tipped her head back with a hand in her hair, so that he could suck on her neck. Her breast was just big enough for him to get a good grip on it.

 

Just before he tipped over the edge he thought he felt her coming again. Unlikely as it was, he decided to count it.

 

Again he stayed inside of her as long as he could. This time, he could kiss her.

 

With other women, this was always the moment when he started to think of how he could make them leave without a fuss. He had always preferred to sleep alone.

 

Now he actually felt the urge to keep her here. And he was so drowsy, and she was surprisingly comfy for such a bony person.

 

Before he knew, he was asleep.

 


	2. Ruth

Ruth

Rehearsals were done, most of the girls had left already. Some had asked Ruth to join them in their night out, but she had declined. Too tired. Her head full with the recent breakup- and some other stuff.

She had dawdled, and hoped that Debbie might be in the mood to talk to her. They did that sometimes now. On Debbie's terms.  
Tonight she got lucky and Debbie noticed.

“So, what is eating you this week? Everything okay with you?”  
Straight to the point. It was still different.   
“Ah well, nothing really. Just, Russel and I broke up.”  
That got Debbie's attention. She sat down at Bash's table, Ruth took the other chair.

“You broke up with him or he with you?”  
Ruth wasn't sure if that mattered, but answered as truthfully as she could.  
“It was an ugly fight. He tried to set a couple of ultimatums, and I didn't like that. I said, if he tried to force me into behaving a certain way, I rather left. He told me to do so.”

It didn't hurt as much as she had expected. Actually, Ruth was a bit relieved, it had been stressful between her busy life here in Vegas and her relationship with Russel. She had tried to make him happy. She had been very aware of herself failing at it.

“What kind of ultimatums?” Debbie had taken some equipment from Bash's table and fiddled with it.  
“Well, you know, how often I should come to visit him, how much time I should reserve for him when he was here, how much I was allowed to talk about the show on the phone... He felt left out I guess.”  
Ruth knew that most people didn't get as passionate about their jobs. But GLOW was more than a job, she could happily spend hours talking about it. Nobody got that. Well, nobody but Sam.

As if she had heard this train of thought, Debbie picked up on it.  
“He knew you are a workaholic from the start. Not fair to hold that against you.”  
Ruth was a bit surprised that Debbie would take her side here. And promptly found herself defending Russel.  
“Yeah, but it must have been hard for him, too. I canceled on him several times because something here had been more important. Of course he got mad, especially because he has nothing he is as passionate about.” And nobody else he wanted to spend time with, like she had. That had been a problem too.

Debbie was silent for a moment. She looked up at the director's booth, where Sam was still working. Ruth lowered her head. She knew what was coming.  
“It's not just the show though, is it?” Debbie carefully put down the microphone she had been fiddling with.  
“I would guess it was also because of Sam. I mean, Russel must have known about your connection. That was probably one of the reasons you guys broke up.”

Ruth knew she was right, but she wasn't ready for this.  
“No! Sam was never part of our fights. It was the show, the lack of free times, the weekends canceled because of it, but not ...Sam!”   
Debbie didn't look convinced.

“Anyway, there is no reason for jealousy. There is nothing between us.”  
And there wasn't. Not really.

“Ruth, that's a lie. I know you. I can see it, there is not nothing.”   
Ruth felt helpless.

“No, it's the truth. He is... he is my friend. And my boss by the way. And my friend. He is my – he is my Sam.”  
She couldn't explain it any better. Not even to herself.  
Ruth decided to share a bit more, it was Debbie, after all.  
“There was a moment. At the dance, with Justine. I messed up and ran away, literally.” 

“Was that when you were with Russel?” It stung that Debbie was still so distrustful. But Ruth deserved that, still.  
“No! It was before that. Well, right before that. The same evening.”

So very transparent in hindsight, wasn't it?  
“So you ran away from that moment and straight to Russel? Could there possibly be any correlation between those two happenings?”  
Yep, very transparent.

“Of course there was. I got scared. Sam is... important. I didn't want to ruin what we had.” She had ruined too much already.   
“Ruth” Debbie sounded gentle, a tone she rarely used these days. “And now? Will you say anything?”  
Ruth put her head in her hands. She knew she was a coward. But she couldn't help it.   
“No. There is nothing to say. I don't think he wants me, not any more. And even if, I can't do something casual. Not with him.” 

That was her biggest fear really. She probably could seduce him, take him to bed for a night, maybe even several nights. But even though she would definitely enjoy that, it would break her.

“And how is that working for you? Because I can see you are distracted. And I think you are wrong about him.”  
Of course she was distracted. They spent so much time together, and sometimes his physical presence was just too much.  
“I'm fine. I will be fine. I'm fine most of the time. It's just sometimes that I get distracted by his hands. Or his legs. Or, oh god, his chest...”

She had never known she had a thing for chest-hair. Apparently she did...  
There was a loud clatter from the booth upstairs, as Sam threw over a cup or something. Right on cue. Ruth and Debbie started giggling, and their moment of close friendship was over.  
Still, it had been good to vent.

 

The next day, a Saturday, Ruth spent an atypical long time to decide what to wear. She went for jeans and a nice green blouse. She decided against wearing a bra, it was warm enough and she hated those things. And it felt a little naughty to be around Sam without one.  
Because on Saturdays she went over to Sam's place. They had done that every week since their arrival in Vegas, minus the few weekends she had spent with Russel.

She got some chinese food. Last week Sam had cooked for them, but he hadn't said anything, so this was probably okay.   
Just before 4 o'clock she knocked on his door.

He opened the door and Ruth had started talking before she noticed that something was wrong.  
Sam was seething.  
She quickly thought about their last couple of interactions, scanned through other people he had contact with. She knew of pretty much all his contacts.  
She came up with nothing.

He crossed his arms. He wasn't shouting, it was more of a snarl.  
“Chinese then? You know I don't like it. Couldn't you have fucking asked my opinion on this before you decide for the both of us?”

They had been to that chinese restaurant before, and he seemed to have liked it just fine. Ruth remembered that he had actually suggested it.  
“No I didn't know that. Sorry Sam. We went to that place a few weeks ago and I thought...” 

“Yes I know you thought. You always think you know what I think. You think you know me so well. Always fucking reading my mind. Well you're wrong sometimes, Ruth.”

Ruth was nearly sure that he wasn't talking about food anymore. 

A few months earlier, she would have cowered and apologized and assumed that she had done something wrong. She wasn't like that anymore. He had no right or reason to talk to her like this.

“Okay, Sam, I don't know what I have done wrong this time, I just take the food and share it with Sheila.”

She straightened her spine and was a bit proud of herself. And upset because Sam was angry with her.

“No, Ruth, wait. I'll eat it. I am just - in a bad mood”.  
That was as close to an apology she had ever heard from Sam. She decided to accept.

“You wanna talk about what has you in a state then?”

He instantly bristled and okay, maybe that had been the wrong thing to say.

“So, Ruth, tell me, how is Russell? Haven't seen him in a while.”

Of course he had to bring this up now. Ruth turned to the food and busied herself with it while she grabbed for something to say. Sam stepped forward and put his hand on the bag. It looked huge on the white plastic.

“Or have you broken up? Did you finally ditch camera-boy?” Sam moved closer to her, and Ruth was acutely aware of him. She still couldn't think of a single thing to say, so she kind of just froze.

Sam's voice dripped low and she could feel his breath on her hair.  
“I wonder why. And you keep staring at my hand, Ruth.”

That managed to push her out of her apathy. Because she had been staring at his hand. Again. And he wasn't supposed to notice, let alone mention that.  
“What are you talking about, Sam?”

Sam took a deep breath.  
“I heard you yesterday. The microphone was on. I heard it all! About my hand, an legs, and … my chest.” 

Ruth felt dread spreading over her. She had ruined this. Sam was angry with her. And maybe, Debbie had been there with her, maybe she had been betrayed. And maybe she deserved that.

Ruth pushed that thought aside and concentrate on saving the friendship at hand.

“Sam” she said, and tried to sound reasonable, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... Please forget about it. I'll get over it. I just go and tomorrow...”

“Ruth” Sam hold her back. Why did do that? She needed some time to clear her head. She needed to get away. “Ruth” he said again.  
She looked at him and was surprised. Sam looked miserable, scared and exasperated at the same time.   
“Will you fucking run away again if I try to kiss you?”

Ruth wasn't sure if this was a good idea. It probably wasn't. But he was so close, he smelled of cigarettes and cologne and of Sam. No, she wouldn't run away.

The kiss was very much like Sam. Vicious, too fast to the point to be considered polite, but with a gentleness underneath that had her reeling. Her mouth had opened on it's own accord before their lips even met, and his tongue had invaded her promptly and thoroughly. But he was welcome, and Ruth found herself clinging to him and would have let him do anything to her right there and then. Kissing had never felt like this before, more like sex than some of the actual sex she had.  
But then he stopped, surprising her again.

“I'm not going to fuck you against a wall, Ruth.” 

These words shot a wave of pleasure though her. She wanted him to do just that. Or anything else.  
“We are going to fucking sit down and have a meal and a fucking conversation about this. Do it properly. As in not casual.”

The way he said that last bit meant something. She tried to get her brain back into working, and then she remembered what she had said last night.   
He wanted more than a night or five, too. He wanted to be with her.  
Sam put his hand on her shoulder and that was grounding.   
Ruth felt light and safe. She couldn't remember ever feeling so safe.

It didn't matter if they had sex now or later. She had heard everything she needed. But if Sam wanted a proper date, he would get one.

“Let's eat then.” She gave him a little kiss to let him know that she understood. This seemed to affect him more than she had expected, so she let him recover on his own, if only to get her own manic smile under control.

When he joined her at the table she could see his erection pressed against his jeans. This made her feel pretty good about herself, too.

So they ate and he was charming. They didn't talk about “this”, like he had announced earlier, but she didn't mind. He actually acted like a gentleman, although looking back, he had always been more caring to her than to anybody else. Other than Justine maybe. 

The whole thing seemed surreal. Maybe she had dreamed the kiss.

After dinner there was an awkward moment, when they were both standing in the kitchen, and she was so sure he would kiss her again and they would finally fuck, and she was so ready and eager to do this, but he pushed her toward the sofa and switched on the TV.   
There had been a little moment of insecurity, maybe he didn't want her after all? But his jeans were still rather tight around his crotch, and he gave her another glass of wine and sat down close to her, even if he didn't touch her until she pawed at his arm. 

After that they watched a documentary, and frogs were now and forever Ruth's favorite animal.

Ruth enjoyed his closeness a lot. She breathed in his smell, pressed her cheek against his shoulder, and lost herself in the small movements of his hand against her arm. Sam seemed tense the whole time. Ruth remembered how he had stopped kissing her earlier, to do things “properly”. The thought still had her smiling, and the memory of the kiss turned her on even more.  
Maybe he needed a little signal. Ruth thought of herself as a modern, self-assured woman with every right to take what she wanted. In theory at least, she had never really made the first move. But with Sam, she felt safe enough.

So she waited until he finished the cigarette he was smoking and then turned her head and started kissing his neck. She even dared to put her hand on his leg, not quite on his crotch.

“Sam” she mumbled into his skin, “how long do we have to wait until it counts as properly?”  
His voice was gravely as he bent his neck a little to give her more room.  
“I don't have a fucking clue, Ruth. How the hell should I know?”

Ruth took his face in her hand and turned him towards her. He looked nervous, scared even.   
Gently she removed his aviators and marveled at how different he looked without them. He still didn't move, so she did, and kissed him.  
Other than before he didn't react as strongly. He was almost passive. Ruth straddled his legs, and briefly he took the initiative, like she wanted. He grabbed her by the hips and ground her down, but stopped again as if she had told him to do so.   
When she undid his shirt to finally, finally touch his chest, he stared up at her like he had never seen her. 

She removed her own blouse, and was suddenly glad she didn't wear a bra. His eyes latched on her breasts, and it was as if she could feel his gaze. His hands followed soon after, and he proved that he knew what he was doing.

When she kissed him again she could feel the hair on his chest on her nipples. She couldn't help but look down, even move a bit so some of the strands would catch on her. It felt divine, and looked incredibly sexy. He caught her looking, and to cover her embarrassment, she started to open his jeans.

Losing trousers was always awkward, but they managed to do so swiftly. She maneuvered herself on her back, hoping he would find his confidence again.

He prepared her for a while, not that she needed it, then slowly pushed his cock in. He was big, big enough to burn a bit and make her feel full. They stared at each other, a bit helpless amid all the sensations, and all the emotions. 

The sex wasn't a disappointment, not exactly. It was just normal, the good kind of normal. She had fantasized him to be cocksure and assertive, but he was careful and slow. It was all fine. Ruth tried to let herself fall into it, enjoy the feeling of being filled, of his weight on top of her.

She was surprised by his shyness. It didn't sit right, he moved like he was new to this, and that couldn't be true.   
Finally it occurred to her, that this was new to him. He knew how to fuck, to take, but this was him doing it properly. This was more like making love, and he definitely wasn't used to that.  
This realization had her reeling for a while. She was important enough for him to go out of his way, to do things differently.  
But really she wanted Sam just like he was. She wanted him to feel as comfortable and as accepted as she felt. There was no way she could put that into words, not without breaking the mood.

So she decided to make the situation more familiar for him. She pushed him away, and didn't miss the hurt look on his face when he sat up.

She turned around, and this position made her feel both insecure and daring. For a moment he didn't do anything, which made her feel even more unsettled.

“Come on, Sam. Please.”

That got him to move. And her plan really worked, suddenly he was every bit as confident and capable as she had dreamed him to be.

He grabbed her by the hips and pushed back in. He didn't hesitate and set a swift rhythm. 

This had never been her favorite position, it had always felt impersonal, and there was a lack of friction on her clit. Also she had always been too aware of the vulnerability, of her ass stuck out in the air, and her breasts swinging with the impact.

But now somehow all this didn't matter. She felt wanted and taken care of. Sam grunted above her, his cock reaching deeper than before, and when she looked down, she actually enjoyed the sight of her swaying tits, and the glimpse of his balls between her own legs. Maybe she could learn to like this. Or maybe everything was different with Sam.

It was the thought that she probably would have the chance to find out if that was true that pushed her into a sudden and hefty orgasm.

Sam fucked her through it, then paused for a moment. She couldn't hold herself up anymore, leaning down on her elbows, and allowed herself a moment of catching her breath.

Sam started fucking her again. She actually enjoyed that, even though everything was oversensitive- or maybe because of that.

It didn't take long until he came inside of her. She could feel his cum inside of her, and it was wonderful.

He stayed inside of her for a long while, Ruth found herself just existing peacefully there, in this revealing and uncomfortable position. It felt right. 

When he finally slipped out, she just fell over. She was sticky and leaking, and very soon it would be disgusting, but for now everything was fine. His hand found hers.

Somehow they ended up watching TV again. It had probably been on the whole time, even if she hadn't noticed.

When she felt as disgusting as predicted she excused herself to the bathroom. Briefly she considered putting on some clothes, but felt daring and free enough to be naked with him.

When she walked back into the living room, she could see him in the kitchen. Naked too, but his glasses back on. He was looking for something, spoons probably, because he had a tub of ice cream on the counter.   
Ruth felt a wave of an emotion she was not ready to name. He looked like he always did, sans clothes, there was a bit hair on his back, it was turning gray. His legs were as long as they looked with jeans on, and his ass was beautiful. She wanted him all over again.

She walked up to him and embraced him. She had this fantasy of fucking in his kitchen, on the counter, but she didn't dare to push him that far tonight. Instead she asked him to take her to bed.

He responded immediately, kissing her with fervor, his hands brushing against her tits, cold because he had been handling the ice cream.

They went to his bedroom, the only room in his flat she hadn't been before. It was tidier than she had expected, and his bed was inviting and smelled of laundry detergent and of Sam.

She insisted on feeding him ice cream, and he indulged her, even though she knew he considered this ridiculous. She made him laugh with some accents, they rolled around and it was lovely. All the time she waited for him to turn things into sex again, but he didn't. He reacted well to every kiss she initiated, but pulled back as soon as she did.

After they had quieted down a bit, Sam lit another cigarette, and Ruth started thinking again.   
Did she want to seduce him again?   
She found that she didn't mind so much, especially when she remembered how he eventually had stopped holding back. Maybe she could bring him that far again.

She felt incredibly daring, actually channeled a bit of Zoya, when she moved herself down the bed a bit to where he sat at the foot end. She took his hand an guided him underneath the blanket.

“So, about my idea for the show.” she said, following a sudden inspiration. Maybe the familiar ground would help them to find their old dynamics.

“I was thinking. Just before the last fight, we could have something unexpected. I was thinking of a barbershop quartet.”

She had had that idea yesterday actually. She had planned to tell him about it today, although she had pictured it in very different circumstances. She dared to push his hand a bit lower, against her mount. She was sure he could feel her wetness.  
He was staring at her like that time she did the first impression of Zoya, at the car sale. Like he couldn't fathom what she was doing. She pressed on.

“We could have the girls interact with them. Like some of them loving it, some not, and quarreling around them”

Sam swallowed visibly. So at least she wasn't making a complete fool of herself.   
She isolated two of his fingers and carefully pushed them inside her. She realized that she was shockingly turned on by her own courage.

After she had moved his fingers in and out a few times when he finally got his act together and joined in the movement. And the conversation.

“Barber shop, eh? Yeah, I can see that. Fully equipped with stripey jackets and those hats.” 

He would normally hate that idea, and it would have taken her many arguments to make him consider. But he started caressing her clit with his thump, so she easily forgave him.

She let him take over, and he finally showed some of the experience she had hoped for. He certainly knew how to touch a clit. Ruth wasn't used to that.

“The queen would hate it.” She just about managed, purely because she had thought about it before

“She-Wolf would howl along.”

He added a third finger, and Ruth was turning into a mess. She tried to stay in the game, wanting to draw this out.

“Hang on, I need to write this down.” He abruptly pulled his hand out. Ruth couldn't believe it, but at the same time she was delighted that Sam was back to being grumpy and a bit cruel. Also she was treated to the sight of his stiff cock bobbing when he walked. 

He was only gone for a couple of moments, and Ruth valiantly withstood the temptation to touch herself.  
He returned with an actual notepad and a pen. Ruth tried to hide her grin.  
She stopped grinning when he sat down next to her, and uncovered her naked body, and without further ado thrust his fingers back into her. The move was so bold and so entitled that Ruth nearly jumped out of bed. Her body reacted with a violent wave of pleasure, though.  
Sam had definitely found his confidence again.

“So” He started to write something all business like. Ruth was drowning.

“Barber shop. Maybe we could have them sing the GLOW-Theme?”

“Yes, good idea.” She really meant that, hadn't thought about that. It was nearly impossible to concentrate. “God yes.” She had meant to say something else, but his thump had done something wonderful that involved a bit of his nail, too. Of course he picked up on this and repeated the motion. It was nearly too much. 

Sam continued to talk. She couldn't follow. She had not been touched so expertly, so boldly before. She was vaguely aware that he was talking about where to find... what had they been talking about? Oh yes, Barbershop.

She had thought about this as well, and tried to say that, but she wasn't sure if she used actual words.  
She didn't really care anymore.

Sam was fucking his fingers in and out of her, still looking at his pad, his whole body still, the only movement in his wrist. His thump put some steady pressure on her clit. It was humiliating and such a turn on.  
She was relieved when he finally turned his attention to her.  
He looked at her, at his hand moving in her. He brought his other hand to play, and spread her folds to reveal her clit to his eyes. This was the sexiest thing anybody had ever done to her, but it was the expression on his face, the way he tipped his head back to look down his nose, like she had seen him do a thousand times before, at scripts, at costumes, at screenshots, now directed at her most private parts, that tipped her over the edge. She came harder than ever before.

Her climax ebbed away slowly, and suddenly she craved his closeness. She pulled at every part of him she could reach. Luckily he seemed to understand quickly.

Before she was completely aware of her surroundings he was on top of her and pushed his cock inside her still convulsing hole.  
Now he finally did all the things she had hoped for.

He took what he wanted, bent her like he would. His hands were firm on her limps, in her hair. When he touched her breast it wasn't like he did before, not reverently. He grabbed her, and it actually hurt a bit.

Ruth was reeling, it was all a bit too much, and everything she wanted. She could truly let go now, let him guide her wherever he wanted. 

Vaguely she was aware of the grunting noises he made, and her own shrieks. She couldn't care.

She came again, or maybe it was just sensory overload. She was floating. 

He fell asleep soon after, half on top of her. She stayed still for a long while, and tried to tidy her thoughts. 

This had been so good it had been scary. He had fucked her just like she had imagined, like she had hoped. Her own intense reaction scared her a bit.  
But when she looked at Sam, who was snoring lightly, his face pressed half against the pillow and half against her shoulder, his glasses askew, she found her equilibrium again. With him it was okay. With him she could be minx and seduce him. Him she could let take control over her mind and body.

Eventually she untangled herself from underneath him. Carefully she removed his glasses and covered him with the duvet.   
In the bathroom she stared at the mirror for a while. He had left some marks on her neck. She liked that more than she had thought possible.  
She cleaned up and crawled back into bed.  
She laid on her back and stared at Sam. He was sleeping soundly, but seemed to be aware of her, as his hand unerringly found her breast and rested atop of it. Ruth had to smile, and felt a stirring between her legs. Again.  
It took her a long time to fall asleep.


End file.
